


Bad Idea

by Smapdi



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smapdi/pseuds/Smapdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set pre-show era, a few months after Mindy joins the practice.  Danny finds Mindy drinking in her office and this happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Idea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HelenVanPattersonPatton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenVanPattersonPatton/gifts), [Calliope_Soars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliope_Soars/gifts).



Ten more minutes. 

This patient file should take him ten more minutes, but it's going to take him an hour at this rate. He just wants to finish this in peace, but he can't concentrate because the walls are thin and he hears this noise pulsing through and it's knocking him off his game. 

She's not supposed to be here. Usually, she's out the door as soon as her appointments are done, long before he leaves, before Dr. Schulman leaves. Even Jeremy stays longer most days. And really, she's not supposed to be _here_ , at the practice, at all, but Marc, Schulman that is, took a liking to her "fresh faced charm" and her "sassy spunk" and hired her against his protests. He knew her from residency, and she was the exact opposite of everything he believed to be important. 

He had no reason to protest, really. The practice was rather stodgy and limited with just the two of them, and they weren't drawing enough clients in the demographics that really worked for profitability. A yearly Pap smear for a menopausal housewife didn't bank nearly as much as a young pregnant socialite with excellent insurance. So a hip and flashy, yet highly educated woman was the perfect addition, at least in theory. 

But she was loud. She was shallow. She wore bright colors and played annoying "music" and gossiped all the damn time. And she mocked him relentlessly, with her lips too bright and shimmery and her voice too high, and he put up with it because Marc was his friend and it was his decision. But never a day went by where he didn't think of how quiet it used to be and how he used to be able to get work done without interruption. 

In frustration he slams the file against his desk and rises. He's just going to ask her nicely to turn the music down without letting that tone into his voice that tells her she's got his goat. He swears it's her goal in life to see him get worked up. 

Her office door is ajar so he swings it open just enough to peek his head in, and he sees she has her eyes closed and she's swaying just a bit in time to the music. She's smiling and mouthing the words and she's ridiculous, just ridiculous, because this is a medical office not a discotheque. 

And yet...

He has to tamp down the feeling that there's something strangely appealing about her like this, so totally unaware she's not alone, or maybe not even caring. He's never felt like that, that it didn't matter how people looked at him or what they thought of him. He's never been so unguarded, always under the watchful eye of his mother or his teachers or his God, and everything he's ever done outside the box is judged and graded and found lacking. 

He's never just closed his eyes and thrown back his head and sung along, even to Springsteen, even when he's at a show and there are thousands of people in joyous abandon drinking and smoking weed and just living in the moment. He was there to see a performance and that's serious business. 

And so is medicine, and she's disrupting him at his place of business, and she holding - she's holding a shot glass and is that a bottle of tequila? What the fuck?

"Are you... are you drinking?" He snaps at her, striding into the room indignantly. She startles and blinks open her eyes, sucking in a gasp of air. 

"Jesus, Danny, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Tequila? Seriously? What the hell are you thinking?" He's furious, partly at the disrespect of it all and partly because she's so unconcerned about being caught. This is unacceptable, out of line, irresponsible, all the adjectives he has already assigned to her internally. 

She catches her breath and smiles at him lazily. "I was thinking I was thirsty. Want some?" 

Danny stares at her, flummoxed. How can she think this is no big deal? 

"It's tequila, Danny, not a math problem." She pours him a shot and thrusts it towards him, that toothy grin still pasted on her face. How many has she even had?

"I'm not going to drink alcohol at work, Dr. Lahiri, and you shouldn't be either." 

She rolls her eyes, infuriating him even more. "Don't you 'Doctor Lahiri' me, Danny. We've known each other for _years,_ " she sighs dramatically. "Relax and have a goddamned drink with me."

"Do you seriously think this is okay? You know what, let's ask Dr. Schulman." He rounds the desk to stand beside her and reaches for her desk phone. Mindy just laughs. 

"Who do you think gave me the booze, Danny?" She laughs louder at the look of shock on his face, the sound jarring his nerves even more. 

"That doesn't... not to drink here, I'm sure!" He sputters. 

Mindy just spins her chair to face him, a glint in her eye, and gestures to the partially drained bottle. "Marc sat right there across from me and we knocked one back the day I started. He's always liked me, Danny. I'm like the daughter he never had." Her lips curve triumphantly. "Now why don't you sit the hell down and have a drink so I don't have to do it alone."

Danny eyes her appraisingly, half a mind to cut and run, talk to Marc privately, make sure this isn't all her wild imagination. But something tugs at him, and he purses his lips and snorts and grabs the shot glass and tilts it back, letting the liquid burn it's way down. Mindy hoots and pours another one. 

"I still think it's a bad idea." He mutters, almost throwing himself down on the small sofa, his expression surly. She downs the shot and grabs the bottle and joins him, angling her body to face him. 

"So, you're a grown ass man. Haven't you ever done anything that you thought was a bad idea?" Mindy's voice is throaty from the booze. Her foot brushes against his leg in a way he thinks is accidental, but there's a look in her eye that's almost predatory and he reconsiders. 

"I don't make it a habit." Danny looks away, but he can feel this presence she has and it's almost enveloping him. He should get up, go finish his paperwork, and go home. That would be the smart thing to do, but she's nudging his arm and when he turns back she has the tequila right there, like she's daring him. 

When he hesitates, Mindy raises an eyebrow and lifts the bottle to her lips, and with a fleeting smile takes a healthy swig. She grimaces and pushes the bottle back into his hands and he follows suit before setting it down on a side table. 

This is not a bad idea. It's a terrible idea. 

His shirtsleeves are rolled up, and Mindy has her eyes fixed on his forearm, so now he's looking there too, feeling a little flushed. It's been about six hours since he ate lunch and the alcohol seems to have seeped right into his veins but he can't see anything special on his arm that bears inspection. That is, until Mindy's fingers brush lightly across it, against the grain of the blanket of fine dark hair that grows there, inducing a shiver that makes her tinkling laugh ring out. 

She looks up at him, eyes alight. "Has anyone ever told you that you have really nice arms, Danny? And hands. Really nice hands." Mindy looks back down and runs her hand down to his wrist, stroking it, then pushing farther and catching the pads of her fingers in the clefts of his, all while he watches dumbly. 

He's confused. She couldn't really be making a move on him, not him, not here. Wasn't she making eyes at Jeremy day in and day out? Or would any warm body do, tonight, even if she kind of despised that body during the day?

Well, she was drinking, and he remembers hearing something about that dentist she used to date, that he was getting married to someone else. It kind of makes sense now. He moved his arm from her grasp, shifting uncomfortably. 

"Uh... thanks, Mindy," he says, abandoning the previous attempt at formality. He's fixing his eyes on a spot on the wall and thinking about that tequila bottle. 

"So, I heard you got a divorce. What happened?" 

His head snapped back around to face her and she was wearing an innocent smile. "What?" 

Mindy blinked. "Sorry, is that too personal? There's a lot of rumors going around, I just thought..."

"Yeah, it's too personal. Why would you even ask me that?" Danny's not drunk enough to talk about the emptiness that replaced what he thought was love, the ensuing ugliness and fighting and long legal battles. He isn't sure there's enough alcohol in the state to get him that drunk. 

"Sorry. I'm stupid." She turns her attention to the floor, chagrined, and he is surprised to feel like he should apologize, which makes no sense, as he didn't do anything wrong.

"It's okay..." It isn't, but the lie came easy for him. 

"My ex is getting married. I mean, we were just living together but... it still sucks." When she looks back, Danny sees a vulnerability on her face that he can't remember ever seeing before, not during residency when they first met, nor during her short tenure at the practice. 

It takes his breath away. 

He realizes he's staring at her when she raises her hand to his cheek, her thumb grazing his lower lip as she cups his jaw. He swallows hard and a smile flits back across her face, a question in her eyes, and he is fully aware of what a catastrophically horrendous idea this is, as he leans in and kisses her. 

Danny has never admitted it, but he's wanted to do this for a long time, as unlikely as it seems. He is struck, as her mouth moves against his, by the unexpected tenderness of her kiss, quite unlike the passionate fervor of a drunken hookup, which is what this is, after all. It's another moment before he realizes she is just following his lead. 

He can stop this now, before it's too late to turn back and chalk it up to a couple of shots shared by two lonely people, something to laugh about in a few years. Remember that time you kissed me in my office, oh, weren't we foolish? Just a blip on the radar. He can stop it now and they can go back to normal, though maybe his argument against drinking in the office will hold a little more weight, and maybe she will listen to him someday. 

But while his brain is idly processing the logic, he can't seem to stop his lips from gliding along hers, can't stop his hands which are traveling across the expanse of her back, one tangling in her hair as the other dips lower. 

It's not like Danny is a stranger to the experiences that come with too much liquor and too little restraint, but he's in his thirties now, long since having learned the intricacies that come with the concept of consent. He's not entirely sure he's sober enough himself, though he feels more intoxicated by her than the tequila, and he's not buzzed but buzzing, head spinning, blood rushing. There's no question that at least one part of him is not just consenting but eager and willing, but he's old enough to know better than to think with that head.

Mindy gasps for air and it's enough to break the spell. 

"Jesus. What are we doing? You... you're drunk. We shouldn't be doing this." The words come stumbling out in a rush and Danny pulls his hands off her, leaning himself back against the cushions, but not getting up. He doesn't really mean it - he doesn't want to stop, but he knows it's the right thing to do.

There's lipstick smeared on her chin and none left on her lips, and he knows he's probably wearing more than she is now, but she still looks glorious, cheeks flushed and hair tangled. 

"I'm not drunk, officer," Mindy smirks and removes her arms from their station around his neck, stretching them wide and touching her index finger of one hand, then the other, to her nose. "Is that good enough, or do you have a breathalyzer you want me to blow?"

The innuendo is not lost on Danny, even if his reactions are slightly dulled by the alcohol. Haven't you ever done anything that you thought was a bad idea? Her words ring hollowly in his head. Yes he has. 

Mindy bites her bottom lip and he closes his eyes, reaching back for the bottle and downing more than a mouthful before clumsily setting it back on the table. Get up, get up, walk away, don't turn back, don't meet her eyes, don't kiss her again, don't, Danny, just don't. 

He does. 

Now he knows the frenzy as she sucks the drops of tequila off his lips, chasing them with her nimble tongue, her hands gripping his face and the back of his neck. He is fumbling with the buttons of her blouse and running his mouth sloppily down her throat, feeling the vibrations as she giggles, and then moans, as first his hands, then his lips, reach her chest. 

She has a utilitarian white cotton bra, the first thing besides scrubs that Danny's seen her wear that isn't flashy, and it has a little front snap thing that he seems to hit just right so it springs apart. He palms one breast, and it's small but firm and responsive, her nipple taut under his thumb. He takes the other one in his lips and uses his tongue to draw some pretty impressive sounds out of her as she lays back against the corner of the couch. 

His hand moves lower, slipping between her knees and up her thighs, his ultimate destination the warm, damp apex, and then he has to move his mouth back to hers. He can't do anything this intimate without kissing her, and she hums against him. His tongue gently parts her lips and strokes inside her as his fingers slip past the cotton barrier below and mimic the action, and she sucks in her breath. Now they can't just say remember that time, because he knows he won't soon forget this. Whether it's a good memory or bad remains to be seen. 

Danny is so caught up in the sensation of her mouth and the way she's grinding against his hand that it almost doesn't register that hers is is his lap, pressing softly against him almost as if to say hold on, it's your turn soon. His movements intensify until she makes a sound that's unbearably hot and her body stiffens, lifting up from the couch as she clenches and shudders around his fingers, pulling her mouth from his so she can suck in air and let out tiny cries. Her breath comes in gasps as she melts back into the cushions, staring at the ceiling, and he's suddenly feeling awkward and maybe a little ashamed he let things to so far as he slips free, leaning back away to give her space. 

Mindy doesn't seem to want space, though, and she eyes him curiously. 

"Where do you think you're going?" she growls, moving towards him with a grin, and he smiles back as she curls one hand around the back of his neck and brings him to her mouth. "Stop smiling," she scolds. "I can't kiss you if you're smiling."

That's not what stops Danny's sudden mirth, however. It's her nimbly undoing his jeans button and sliding down his zipper, and her hand slipping inside to free his aching arousal. She only strokes him briefly before she adds her mouth and then he's just lost, all thought replaced by just the way she feels, so warm and soft and wet and it's everything. He can't last long, and when she does that thing with her tongue it's all a blur, and he feels like he's not just coming but coming apart at the seams. 

Then he's the one staring at the ceiling. 

Mindy gives him a little pat, like he's performed well, and clears her throat before she begins the process of doing up her clothing. Danny stops her with his hand on her arm so she'll look at him, and she has clear eyes and a tentative smile when she does. 

"Hey, this... I don't know what this was..." He trails off, unable to find the appropriate words for a conversation held while tucking yourself back into your pants. 

She shrugs. "It was fun. Don't make a big deal about it, and maybe..." The smile is still playing on her lips. "Maybe we can do it again sometime. If you want."

It doesn't make sense, and it's still a bad idea. 

But he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off a prompt from Calliope_Soars for early Danny and Mindy, where she pretends to be drunk and hits on him. It veered a little bit away from that.


End file.
